The Murder Of Willowstream

Ch.11. Bride Junkie

Rhys was busy taking stock in the employee back up of the 'Soft Beans Cafe'. Smiling pleasantly to himself, as was his way. It was late in the afternoon, school was done for the day and he had gotten all the details of Marshal's date from Marshal himself. He couldn't help but absolutely bubble with a distinct sense of pride at his best friend for having been brave enough to go through with it. Rhys had always known what Marshal deserved, and had always wanted no less than the best for him.

Unbeknownst to Marshal, Rhys had scared off numerous would be suitors that he didn't think would be good for Marshal. Well, he had Alaric or Alice scare them off, because Rhys was anything but intimidating. Regardless, he always kept a weather eye on anyone that might just be looking to play around. Except in the case of Mark, who had apparently come out of no where to ask Marshal out on a date.

Was it controlling and over protective? Most definitely. But he justified it by the love for his friend, who didn't have the confidence to tell people to fuck off when he needed to.

Rhys' attention shifted from the stock when there came the sudden cacophony of numerous utilities clattering to the ground from the cleaning closet, causing him to jump suddenly on the spot, and clutch at his chest.

Throwing his head back, he gave an annoyed groan. The cafe was barely hanging on by a thread as it is; the last thing this place needed was a pest problem, especially with the health inspector due any day now.

His hand extended towards the cool steel of the door handle, hesitating as the sound of more scuttling movement and utilities clattering to the ground came from within. Reaching for the old broom that sat to the left of the door, he took a bolstering, grounding breath before turning the handle and stepping in to the closet.

Rhys hurriedly darted inside, closing the door behind him before anything could escape and flicked on the light, while wielding the broom like the ultimate rat squashing weapon. He could see a form hiding behind a set of shelves, crouching in the far left corner of the room. Far too big to be a rat, his heart began to pump an uneasy set of nerves.

"Uh excuse me?" He called out to the figure, who froze from whatever it was doing at the sound of his voice. "This is employees only. You shouldn't be back here."

The figure stood and Rhys' knuckles began to turn white as he nervously tightened his grip around the broom. From this angle: He could see a fluttering of dark brown hair, pouring down the back of a white blouse, before ending in a pleated skirt. The legs were bare, but skinny, and they wore a simple set of plain shoes and socks that rose up till just above the ankle.

The figure turned, nervously moving it's form from behind the shelving as they revealed themselves, and the sight caused Rhys to let out a small gasp in surprise.

It was Rebecca. But she looked incredibly ill. The once fullness of her features seemed sunken, her skin pulled close to her bones, and her clothes hung loosely to her form, like her weight had suddenly and shockingly dropped. Where her skin once held the healthy tinge of rouge, it now seemed deathly pale with a slight shade of green. Like she was suffering from some kind of flu.

But the most shocking of all was the blotting of blood that soaked the front of her shirt, and continued to drip to the floor; all from the dead rat that she held between her teeth. Her eyes appeared glassy, bristling with tears in a concoction of both shame and worry.

"Rebecca? What are you doing?" Rhys asked with a concern laden in his voice as he placed the broom to his side and approached. Rebecca pulled the rodent from her mouth and let it drop to the floor with a grisly squelch.

"I'm just so hungry." She immediately began to sniffle. "I haven't seen Alaric in days. I'm hungry." Rebecca wiped at her eyes with the sleeves of her shirt, before doing the best she could to mop at the blood on her chin. Her shoulders began to gently shake against the weight of her restrained sobs.